


Angel

by gypsiangel



Series: Healing [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, F/M, FLUFF! So much fluff..., Happy Ending, Hearing Damaged Percival Graves, M/M, Protective Newt, Protective Percival, hurt/comfort (as always), mentions blood and deaths of children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-17 22:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9348338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsiangel/pseuds/gypsiangel
Summary: Her eyes were huge and red-rimmed, a golden green that reminded Percival of Newt and sent a sharp pang through him."My name's Percy, I'm here to help you."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this! And thanks for keeping up with this series of 'smaller' fics, it makes me so happy. :D This is a two-parter, but still short and more importantly- done. As always, lmk what you guys think, good, bad, or ugly (though if any of the latter, please be gentle) Cheers!

*~*~*

            She was sitting on the steps leading up to the attic of the orphanage, tears making tracks through the dirt and dried blood that coated her tiny face. Her eyes were huge and red-rimmed, a golden green that reminded Percival of Newt and sent a sharp pang through him. In the dim light, her tangled curls looked dark, and he had the uncomfortable thought that if he and his partner were to actually jump through all the legal and magical hoops, this is what their child would look like. He kept his wand in his hand, but hidden against the side of his pants as he approached slowly and cautiously. He could see her trembling and it broke his heart.

            He wasn’t the right person for this. He should call for Tina, or someone else to come up and take over, or to help. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the frightened girl and he didn’t want to scare her further. _“Hello, little one.”_ He saw her startle violently, lips falling open in a gasp. _“It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you.”_

            This call had been a nightmare from the moment they’d set foot on the property. The cases involving kids were always the worst, but this one went into that horrible place that was so much harder to erase when it was done. It had been a bloodbath from top to bottom, Percival’s team called in specifically to deal with the fallout due to the nature of the horror. It was a wizarding orphanage, and not a very popular one. It was one of those forgotten hellholes that were called out to the MACUSA social services every once in a while, given a cursory glance, a list of things to fix and a slap on the wrist, then swept away until the next time. Someone had used the place as a training ground to try out dark magic. The children and few adults hadn’t stood a chance.

            Everyone walking the scene wore the same horrified, guilty faces that failed their usual blank mask. This could have been prevented. It shouldn’t have been so easy for this to happen, for someone to believe it was _okay_ for this to happen. Most of the children found so far had been under the age of ten, some of them nearly unrecognizable.

            " _My name’s Percy. I’m here to help you. Everything’s okay.”_

            She waited until he was close, then she reached her arms up for him, narrow chest heaving with a painful sob. He didn’t even hesitate, scooping her up to cradle her close. She was icy to the touch, underdressed for the frigid temperature inside or out. Either the matron had been pocketing the heating allotment, or the events that decimated most of the house’s population had happened much earlier than it appeared. By the near skeletal feel of the child in his arms, Percival figured that it was likely to be the former.

           Sickness pooling in his gut, he tucked his wand into his pocket and tucked the girl into his coat with him, mindless of the filth that covered her. She shivered violently and turned her face into his warm chest and he quickened his steps to get back downstairs. Seeing Tina standing by the entrance to the cavernous kitchen, he quickly informed her of what happened and left her in charge of the operation. Her expressive face stricken, she looked from his face to the head of dark hair peeking out from the lapels of his coat and nodded. _“I’ll take care of things here. Get Newt to help.”_

            He returned her nod and quickly left the scene, stepping out into the pathetic mud pit that passed for a yard before disapparating to his home. Seraphina wouldn’t be happy with him, but he was going with his gut for once and making an executive decision. Being with Newt had softened him, had made him think outside of the rules and regulations and more about the consequences. He’d deal with the fallout. Right now, he couldn’t think of any other person better to help the child than a man that had spent most of his life rescuing and fixing broken animals.

            He remembered Newt’s expression when he’d told of his experience with the Obscurial girl from Sudan, the haunted look as he confessed how he’d tried so hard to save her. It had been too late, the damage far too heavy to fix. He recalled how both of them were still reeling over what had happened with Credence Barebone, how guilt wasn't too far off when he thought about how things could have gone. For the first time, he hesitated. What was he opening them up to? What if things went wrong? What if he was setting them up for something so much worse?

            It was too late to back out now. Newt was coming around the corner, his shirt-sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the first three buttons undone. His hair was damp with sweat and it looked as if he’d just barely climbed back out of his case. _“Percy? You’re home early. What’s wrong?”_ Green eyes darted over him, searching for any sort of injury, but settled on the bulge of Percival’s coat. _“Percy?”_

            _“I need your help.”_ Percival briefly explained the situation at the orphanage while trying not to go into too many details. He moved toward the dining room as he spoke, unfurling his coat to reveal the little girl. She was still shivering, but it had calmed some. Her eyes were overlarge in her small triangle of a face as she looked around, taking in everything. _“She’s the only one left alive that I know of. I couldn’t just take her into MACUA, not like this. I can call a mediwitch and have them come here. It’s… she’s been through enough, Newt.”_

            Newt squeezed his arm briefly and said, _“You did the right thing, the last thing a traumatized child needs is to be in that sterile horror of a place. Would you mind calling Queenie in? It would be an advantage to have her help.”_ Percival watched as Newt approached the child gently, moving slowly and smiling in that soft, non-threatening, warm way of his. The girl wasn’t much older than four years old, painfully thin and battered with that look about her that spoke of a life far harsher than anyone deserved. In the brighter, cleaner light of his formal dining room, the bruises and scrapes were more apparent and he felt that awful tightness in his chest again.

            Her hair was a dark brown under the dirt, matted and thick against her bony shoulders. Under the too thin material of her nightgown, she shivered and flinched when Newt reached to touch her tiny hands. Her eyes darted over to Percival and he could see her lips quiver as she jerked out of his partner’s grasp, reaching for him with what he assumed was a distressed cry. Unnerved but unable to ignore it or push her away, he stepped in and pulled her up into his arms again. He could feel her upset through every nerve in his body and locked eyes with Newt over the top of her head.

            Instinctively, he started rocking her from side to side, murmuring what he hoped was soothing sounds and words. _“I’ll summon Queenie and a healer. Then I’ll get a bath started,”_ Newt signed, then smiled reassuringly, _“You’re doing wonderful, love. I’ll be right back.”_

            _“Shh, little one, it’s all right. You’re safe now,”_ Percival repeated against the top of her head, moving toward the fireplace after igniting the pre-laid firewood with a wave of wandless magic. The warmth was immediate and apparently soothing to the girl, because she relaxed just slightly in his arms. He moved back toward the oak table and gently eased her back down, _“It’s okay. We need to get a look at you, darling, we need to see if you’re hurt. Is that all right?”_

            She looked uncertain, obviously wanting him to hold her again, but finally nodded reluctantly. _“What’s your name, honey?”_ Mercy Lewis, he had no fucking clue what he was doing. He had such a limited experience with children, as in he’d seen the random child come in with their parents to retrieve something on their days off. The times he’d come in contact with kids in the field was also thankfully small, but the outcome was usually horrible. Any survivors had always gone with the female aurors and mediwitches. He didn’t have anything to do with their questioning or care. He had no clue why this time was different. He could have done the same thing as he always had and passed her off to those better equipped. That’s what he _should_ have done.

            She didn’t answer him, casting her face down, the tiny fingers of one hand gripping his sleeve, while the other twisted in the rags of her nightgown. He could feel Queenie enter the room behind him, the soft edges of her magic a lot like her perfume; light and sweetly floral with a hint of sharp, clean citrus. He looked over at her with a half-smile that she returned sadly, coming closer as if to start interacting with the tot.

            The girl nearly climbed up his arms in a panic the moment she saw her, surprising him at the suddenness of it. Quickly grasping her so she didn’t tumble, Percival braced her backside under one arm and wrapped his other across her back, cradling the back of her head as she did her best to bury herself in his chest and neck. He could feel the vibrations of her words but couldn’t make any of it out. Her terror was a tangible thing, thick and awful and dark. She clutched at him hard, surprisingly strong for someone so small. He took several steps away from Queenie and away from the door, toward the warmth of the fireplace.

_“It’s okay,”_ he tried, completely out of his depth. He had no idea what she was saying, if she was saying anything at all, or if it was just screams. Her energy was a loud, jangled torrent of fear and Percival felt it building in his own chest. _“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you. You’re safe. You’re safe here. Queenie is a friend, darling. She’s here to help you. I won’t let anyone get to you.”_

            He looked beseechingly up at Queenie and noticed that Newt had come in behind her, both of them wearing horrified looks. Newt darted back out of the room, presumably to gather something from his case, and Queenie looked like she was about to burst into tears. _“She’s afraid I’m going to hurt her. One of the people who came into the house was built a lot like me, and the awful people who took care of her were female. Oh, Percy, they were terrible, terrible people.”_

            Newt came rushing back in, carrying a blanket and his wand, quickly casting a calming charm over the girl as he approached. Percival felt a rush of anxiety when she abruptly went limp in his arms, all of the fight draining out of her. The MACUSA sent healer came in not too long after, reaching for the child with a few terse words. It took more effort than he was comfortable with to relinquish her, feeling hollow and strange as he watched the white-robed woman carry the now limp child toward the dining room table that was quickly transfigured into a sterile medical bed.

           Queenie and Newt flanked him immediately, his redheaded partner pressing a comforting kiss to his temple, while Queenie squeezed his arm gently. _“I-,”_ Percival stopped, not knowing what to say. He moved closer to the bed, stopping just out of the way and watching the healer move her wand in the familiar diagnostic patterns. A cream and gold scroll floated off to the side, rapid words appearing on it as they went on.

           It was less than an hour later when the woman stepped back and fixed Percival with a sad but direct stare, _“Obviously, she’s severely malnourished and physically traumatized. It looks as if there was long term and sustained physical abuse, none of her injuries are from tonight. I don’t know what she witnessed, Director Graves, but in the long run, I’d say this happenstance could have saved her life. Anyone who is capable of starving and beating a child is easily capable of taking it too far.”_

_“Is there a protocol we need to follow for her continued care?”_ It didn’t even occur to him to consider not following through with keeping custody of the girl, at least through the investigation and apprehension of the wizards who did it. He wasn’t about to leave her safety with someone else, no matter how competent they may be. He didn’t need to look at Newt to feel the gentle approval as the magizoologist rested a hand on the small of his back. Percival resisted the urge to lean into the other man, ignoring the questioning lilt to the healer’s eyebrows as she eyeballed their closeness. Falling back on his infamous stoic expressions, he stared her down until she answered.

_“Nutrition potions, regular meals, and kindness. She should be fine with a lot of attention, patience, and work,”_ she paused and eyed him with a cool, professional concern, _“Are you sure you know what you’re taking on, Mr. Graves? A traumatized child isn’t the same as bringing home a stray kneazle. She’s going to need…”_

_“She’s going to be in good hands, Madam Grey.”_ Queenie interrupted, having moved to stand on the opposite side of the transfigured bed. She winked at Percival as she stroked the child’s hair, taking note of the pixie like features that had been uncovered after several cleaning charms removed some of the dirt and blood. Percival swallowed hard at the light spray of freckles that crossed the bridge of her pert nose and thin cheeks. Gods, it was as if Morgana herself had put this child in front of him and asked for help. He wondered if he’d even had a choice in this at all.

*~*~*


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys so much!!! Sorry this took me so long, life happened and I mentally dropped off the map. But I'm back and decided to stretch this out to a three-part story because I'm weak. ;) Hope this doesn't disappoint. Cheers! Oh! And there's definite sexing in this chapter, because again, this is Percival and Newt and I'm completely hopeless.

*~*~*

          Much later, after the second MACUSA healer left and Percival had endured the debriefing (lecture) from Seraphina and the subsequent removal from the case so he could take care of his ‘new responsibilities’ and focus all of his attention on keeping little Suzanna Merriweather safe, he stared down at the folder he’d taken from his boss to look over. It had taken nearly two days for them to find her records in the disgustingly disorganized and filthy office kept by the orphanage matron, and even then it had been only through sheer luck and a little sly magic. The file was depressingly thin, only showing the girl’s assumed birthday, the date of her arrival, basic stats like hair and eye color, and the manner in which she’d arrived. She’d been in that hell for two years, having been dropped off with a note clutched in her hand and a sack of clothing at her feet. No one had spoken to her birth parents or any sort of guardian.

         Newt sighed against Percival’s back as they sat on the bed, the redhead leaning against the headboard with his arms snugly fit across Percival’s abdomen and his chin resting on the top of his head. This was a favorite position for them, switching it up depending on who needed it the most. There was a parchment sized board next to their legs that automatically wrote down their words, a surprisingly thoughtful gift from Theseus that he’d brought with him from gods knew where. When asked, he’d winked and said that it was ‘classified’ and if he told them, he’d have to obliviate the two of them for their own good. Overdramatic and lying through his teeth. Percival had gotten the information from him after half a bottle of the good firewhiskey he’d also smuggled in. The ass had made and enchanted it himself.

         He had also taken up temporary residence in Percival’s attic while he searched for a home of his own in wizarding New York. Newt was fond of the theory that his brother was just tired of bumbling around London by himself and needed something fresh to keep his fancy and a new job at MACUSA was just the thing. Percival had a feeling that it had more to do with Tina Goldstein keeping his fancy than any sort of shiny new job or surroundings. He couldn’t wait to poke fun at his fellow auror when he finally realized that he was well and truly caught.

        Words appeared on the parchment board, accompanied by the vibration of Newt’s words against his back, _“I don’t believe our little one likes the name given her.”_

_Our little one._ Percival felt his throat go tight at the phrasing. He knew that it was just Newt’s way of speaking, but it sparked a feeling of rightness in him that spurred him to ask, _“What would you think of us keeping her when this is over? Formally adopting her, I mean. I know it’s only been a couple days and it’s going to be a challenging adjustment, but…”_

         He found himself facing his lover then, their faces close as Newt pinned him back into the bedding. The smile that crossed his beloved freckled face was achingly beautiful. _“I thought it would take forever for you to say those words, darling.”_

         Percival couldn’t help but laugh, rolling his eyes even as Newt pressed their lips together in a firm, persistent line. When they finally separated, he took in the golden face above him with that lingering awe that always seemed to take him over in moments like this. _“Are you sure? There’s a lot of scrutiny that comes with adopting. They’ll insist on marriage.”_

_“Is that your way of asking me for my hand, Mr. Graves?”_ There was a teasing lilt to his mouth, but Newt’s eyes were very serious. Percival realized what he’d said and that warmth grew, encompassing him and making everything seem to shine. He reached up and cradled Newt’s face in his hands, thumbs rubbing gently across those gorgeous, freckled cheekbones.

_“I guess it is, Mr. Scamander. Will you marry me and build a life we can be proud of? Will you adopt our first child with me and raise her as ours?”_

         Golden green eyes welled with tears and his lower lip trembled as Newt nodded, overwhelmed by emotion, _“Yes. Merlin’s nefarious beard, yes!”_

         Percival laughed, trembling with joy as he took his lover’s mouth, hand trailing back to bury in soft curls. When Newt raised up over him, his smile turned wicked as he went directly for the half-hard length inside Percival’s pajama pants. Cupping and stroking, he bit his lip at the groan that escaped, sending Percival’s blood to boiling. With a whispered word, clothing was vanished to the chair by the window and Newt’s fingers were curled over and around him, stroking in just the right way _._ _“Can I have you?”_

         Percival gasped as his lover’s fingers slipped below and grazed his entrance, and he nodded with a soft, needy noise. This wasn’t something they did often, as they both preferred the other, but sometimes it was what both of them craved. Newt sometimes needed the control, and sometimes Percival needed to relinquish it. As he felt the tingle of the lubrication charm working, he canted his hips to accept the slender fingers that pressed in so gently he grit his teeth at the sweetness of it. When they were like this, Newt was almost _too_ tender with him, too soft. The mouth that moved over his tasted of peppermint tea and he breathed him in deep.

         The other hand not occupied was roaming, caressing in a firm pattern that drove Percival crazy. When that beautiful mouth closed over a nipple and blunt teeth closed over the sensitive nub, he jolted and ground down on the fingers prepping him. _“More, Newt! Please, I’m not going to break. I need more of you.”_

         He felt the shudder go through the lanky form above him, then a sharp nip at his ribs made him whine. They’d had a laughing discussion one morning when they were both sleepy and sated about Newt’s oral fixation and the gorgeous, almost compulsory way he craved the taste and feel of Percival’s cock. Percy could still see the brazen, satisfied look on his lover’s face, as well as the flame of color that rose to his freckled cheeks. There wasn’t much warning, though he should have known the direction this was going. Just as he slipped the third finger in, Newt closed his lips around that most sensitive part of him. Hot and tight, the suction was incredible as it always was, his tongue moving along the underside as he moved all the way to take Percival into his relaxed throat.

        The fire of penetration and the hot tightness of Newt’s mouth just about did him in, the pleasure spiraling almost out of control. Desperately not wanting it to end so soon, Percival brought his knees up and buried his hands in Newt’s hair, tugging up with a shout. Immediately latching onto his partner’s lips in a desperate kiss, he gripped Newt’s neglected length and stroked.

        Fine tremors rolled through both of them as Newt finally gave in and slipped his fingers free, instead grasping his hips to pull him further down on the bed, off the pile of pillows they’d been reclining against. There were times when Percival was reminded of how deceptively strong he was, and the large, slender hands that gripped the back of his thighs were normally so gentle that it sent a hot thrill through him to be held so tightly. When the blunt, thick head of his cock edged in, Percy nearly saw stars, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the sensations overtook him.

        The burn and stretch was incredible, yet when Newt hesitated, stilling his movements as if to let Percival adjust, it was Percival’s turn to angle his hips just so and thrust up to take his lover the rest of the way. It was only when Newt was resting completely against him that he allowed a moment for them both to take a breath. When he reopened his eyes, the adoring look in his magizoologist’s eyes made his heart skip. Then they were moving, the give and take of their lovemaking moving in a familiar, increasingly frantic rhythm.

        When Percival’s nails dug into Newt’s back and scraped down, he felt hips stutter and saw Newt’s jaw go slack as he fell over the edge. It was the hot, pulsing sensation deep inside that drew out his own orgasm. As they laid there, trying to obtain any sort of control over their bodies, they held onto each other so tightly it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

*~*~*

         It took nearly three weeks for the dark wizards to figure out where the sole survivor was being offered sanctuary. The newly renamed Althea (what had started out as a joke on Theseus’s owl to Percival had actually stuck once the little one had heard it and took to it gladly) had adjusted surprisingly well to the Scamander-Graves household. As long as Percival was within her sight, that is. Little Thea wasn’t keen on being too far away from him if she could help it, with Newt being a poor, but increasingly tolerable substitute. Paperwork was in the works for them to formally adopt, Percival’s standing at MACUSA and his family name going a long way toward getting the red tape sorted.

          As far as the wedding was concerned, he was fighting the good fight to keep it as simple and as quick as possible. Once the euphoria of actually getting engaged had faded, the reality of actually telling their parents had sunk in and poor Newt had looked like he was going to be sick. _“Don’t get me wrong, darling,”_ he had sighed, the words appearing on their charmed parchment board, _“They’re going to be overjoyed. My mother, however, shares my brother’s flair for the dramatic and my father is rather helpless when it comes to denying her anything. I believe our best bet would be elopement if we want to avoid a long, drawn out circus.”_

          As a closet romantic, Percival wasn’t quite ready to give up on the vision he had of a garden wedding at his childhood home with their immediate family and intimate friends there to witness the final commitment he didn’t think he’d ever actually make. The elder Scamanders were due to arrive in three days, and he couldn’t help but be a bit nervous. He’d heard stories from Theseus through the years, and even more recently the redheaded menace was fond of passing on progressively more outlandish and frightening stories of their mother’s penchant for mother-henning and taking physical action against those she saw as a threat towards her children. Newt had assured him that his brother was merely being an ass and his mother was far from being so brash. _“That was one time, Theseus. One time. I was eight and the innkeeper was rather handsy from what I can recall. He did regain use of his fingers eventually.”_

           Right at the moment, Theseus was playing a game of wizarding chess with Tina and trying not to be too overt in his flirting. Percival met Queenie’s eyes over the top of Thea’s head and smiled as the younger sister winked at him from her spot on the sofa next to Jacob. Thea had slowly gotten over her terror of the golden-haired witch, mostly through sheer determination on Queenie’s part. It helped that there wasn’t a malicious bone in her body and it showed in every aspect of her being. It would still be a long time before the little girl would be able to really let go and trust a woman’s touch.

           Newt was curled up next to Percival on their own small couch, Thea sandwiched between them as she watched and listened with wide, bright eyes as he explained in excited tones about the brilliantly colored occamy hatchling that was curled around his wrist. Percival watched their interaction with a contentment he hadn’t realized was lacking. It really should have surprised him more that he was taking to parenting so well. He affectionately blamed Newt. Without the other man’s influence, he never would have even dreamed of taking an orphan in, let alone keeping her.

          A fission of alarm went through him as the first shockwave came through the house. Someone was trying to break through the wards. Everyone reacted, going on alert as Percival eased Thea into Newt’s arms and told him to take her to the case and bring the whole thing to the discussed safe point- in Theseus’s attic room, inside the wardrobe at the furthest corner. Jacob was to go with him, but when Tina and Percival tried to get Queenie to join them, she stubbornly shook her head, a dangerous glint in her dark eyes. No, this time she wasn’t going to be sitting it out.

          When her eyes met Percival’s, they had an understanding. He nodded and turned to Newt, kissing him briefly before addressing the frightened child trying to push away and cling to him instead. _“Daddy, no!”_ Percival froze, even with the shockwaves of the breached wards running up and down his spine. She hadn’t called him that before. Newt, in his sweet, unobtrusive way had been habitually referencing him as ‘Daddy’ to the creatures of his case, and to Thea as they interacted more and more. It shouldn’t have been such a bittersweet shock to have it come along now, of all times.

           His heart swelled, and despite the urgency of the moment, he wrapped his arms around her and Newt in a tight embrace. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of strawberries that lingered in her hair. _“Go with Papa, I’ll be there soon, darling. Can you be a big girl for me? I need you to keep an eye on him and Jacob, all right?”_ No matter what Newt called himself to his beasts, Percival refused to have any of their children calling him ‘mum’.

           Her eyes were shimmering with tears, but she finally nodded and let go, burying her face in Newt’s neck. One last squeeze of hands and they were gone. Percival shook off the nerves and squared his shoulders, turning to look at his own team. He almost smiled at the thought, once an auror, always an auror, off duty or not. After a moment of quiet discussion and focusing on where he felt the disturbance from the wards the most, Percy paired with Queenie and sent Tina with Theseus.

           All in all, it was rather anti-climactic and almost too easy to subdue the quad of aspiring thugs that thought it would be a cakewalk to break into the Director of Magical Security’s home. The three men and one woman were on their knees in the study, legs and arms locked together with a full body bind as Theseus stood over them with his wand almost lazily twirling through his fingers as he eyed them with disgust. Another squad of on-duty aurors were on their way to take them into custody. Percival wanted to do the questioning himself, but had been shot down by Seraphina herself. He couldn't be impartial to this, she'd told him during their fire-call. The nasty quirk to her lips as she told him that she would be taking care of it herself was immensely comforting.

          The woman, blonde curls mussed and tangled from the black knit cap she’d been wearing, was sporting a nasty black eye and a bloody nose. She was scowling, eyeing Queenie with unfiltered hate, while Percival’s favorite secretary glared right back with more venom than he’d ever thought her capable of. He pulled her into a half-hug, frowning when he felt her trembling.

          Pulling her to the side, closer to the fire, he rested his hands on her shoulders and peered into her pale, furious face. _“Are you okay? That was one hell of a left hook there, Goldstein.”_

Queenie snorted and rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. _“I would’ve gone in for more if I’d had time. She’s got a glass jaw. Not so big and scary when facin’ someone grown.”_ She closed her eyes and sighed. _“There’s so much bad rattlin’ around in her, Percy. I’m so mad I could hex her stupid and keep goin’. She’s the reason our Thea is scared of me. She hurt her bad, before the night they came. It’s all so clear and so senseless it makes me sick.”_

          Percival pulled her in and squeezed her tight. He knew so few people who were so genuinely good, so pure hearted and just… just _sweet_. He felt a rush of affection and pride that the Goldstein sisters had chosen to include him into their family circle. Newt was a given, the awkward, beautiful soul easy to include and care for. Him, scarred and broken and angry as he was, was not as easy.

          Queenie tightened her arms around his waist briefly before pulling back and poking him in the chest, hard. The smile on her face eased the sharpness, _“Stop that, right now, Percival Graves. You deserve a family that loves and takes care of you just as much, you got me?”_

_“I get you.”_

_“Good, now go get our sweethearts from the case and let them know we’re all okay. I can hear Jacob fret from all the way down here.”_

*~*~*

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bears repeating, you guys are the bee's knees! Here's the next-to-last installment of this one. Lol, it turned out to be much, much longer than I'd anticipated, but when the story speaks, it speaks. I'm still trying to keep it from turning into a monstrosity... *shrug* I also took liberties with names and other things, considering there's not much information about their families.

*~*~*

         Amelia Scamander was even more frightening than either of her sons had made her out to be, and in so many different ways. Standing a good foot shorter than the men in her family, and slender to the point of waifish, she looked delicate and pretty as a picture. Curly, reddish blonde hair was cut in a stylish bob that framed her elven features perfectly, showing off mischievous golden eyes and adorably dimpled cheeks. He was positive that she was where Newt inherited that harmless façade from, along with those damnable freckles. Percival was smitten within the first fifteen minutes of meeting her. She greeted him with the same enthusiasm that she greeted her own children, pulling him into a hard embrace and kissing his cheek firmly before letting him go with a grin and a pat on the back.

_“You’re good for my Newt,”_ she told him, signing as she spoke, which cracked a little of the apprehension curling around Percival’s gut. _“And you made sure my Theseus came back home from that awful war, which makes it a given that you’re considered one of mine now. Now, what did I hear of a grandbaby? Newt, I was promised a granddaughter, young man.”_ With that, she’d turned to Newt, who was near to glowing with pleasure at his mother’s acceptance of his chosen partner. He exchanged glances with Percival, the smile on his face faltering just a little.

         Thea still wasn’t keen on much contact with strangers, and women were even more difficult for her to handle. Tina and Queenie were slowly making progress, but that was through daily interaction. Some damage was slow to heal, and one month away from such horrible abuse wasn’t even close to being enough time.

_“Mrs. Scamander-”_

_“You call me mum, dear. I won’t answer otherwise.”_ Amelia’s eyes crinkled over at him as she started removing her hat, smoothing the perfect curls before wandlessly floating it to join her coat on the rack by the door.

        Percival had to swallow hard before continuing, the difference between this woman and his own rather distant mother was so striking. _“I’m not sure how much Newt or Theseus has shared with you on the circumstances of us gaining custody of Thea. The home she was in before…”_

_“Mum, she was abused and ill-fed,”_ Newt stepped in and saved Percival from making his mother unhappy. He took his mother’s hands and held them, glancing over at Theseus, who was hovering close by. Their father hadn’t made it this time. Despite being retired, he did some consulting work that was keeping him behind for the next few days. He would be there by the weekend. _“Her caretakers had been women, and now she’s rather skittish around females.”_

         Percival could see the pained anger in every line of the older woman’s body and felt a pang of sympathy. She turned tear filled eyes back to him, the very picture of her son’s exotic golden green, and he knew that he would be hard-pressed to ever deny his future mother-in-law anything. The Scamanders were quickly becoming a weakness. Morgana-forbid any of his subordinates figure that one out, though he had a sinking feeling that they already knew he wasn’t the extreme hardass they’d feared and hated for years. To be honest, Percy was strangely all right with that. Grindlewald had changed his perspective on a lot of things.

_“I trust you have apprehended these repulsive cretins, Percival? Theseus?”_ Her frown sharpened when her eldest son couldn’t hold her gaze. The truth of it was, the four they’d apprehended breaking into their home was only a small envoy of people involved in a much bigger operation. Seraphina had just held a conference the day before, having broken the suspects in interrogation over an intense twenty-four hour session that included veritaserum and some of the barely legal techniques brought out only in extreme circumstances. It seems as if the group, calling themselves the Magical Anarchy, was responsible for far more than just a hellacious raid on a single orphanage. There had to be an inside man on the job, and it didn’t seem like their suspects had any idea of who it was. The perpetrators had too much personal information to be acting on their own.

         Percival was expecting a lot more trouble to come their way before it was said and done.

         Amelia sighed and slipped her hand into the crook of Newt’s elbow. _“Come along, then. I need tea and you boys to come clean with the details. And I swear, if you leave anything out, I’ll know it.”_

         And that was how Amelia Scamander set his sunroom on fire.

*~*~*

         Thea huddled against his chest, her tiny fist bunched in his collar as she peeked out at the sweet-faced woman speaking to her. Percival rubbed her back soothingly, his palm nearly dwarfing her thin form as he unconsciously rocked her side to side. Newt was standing next to his mother, all the usual nervous movements tamped down to prove to their daughter that the new person was safe. It was something they’d all noticed; little Thea seemed to look to her Papa for an indication on whether everything was okay or not. Queenie had pegged it when she said that from a survivor’s view, it only made sense to keep an eye on the most sensitive adult. Newt wasn’t all that good at hiding his emotions, unlike everyone else who made a habit of being around human society for longer than a few hours at a time.

        The very notion made him incredibly uncomfortable. _“I’m not good with people, Percy! Everyone makes me nervous. Speaking to strangers in general gives me hives. How am I a good example on how to judge human character? She’ll be a shut in by the age of eight!”_

        No amount of soothing would calm his worries, but thankfully there hadn’t been much opportunity so far for them to be around many unknown people. He just had to keep that natural jumpiness in check when they were interacting with the aurors that seemed to be in and out randomly as they checked in for protection detail. Seraphina was a lost cause, as the woman was avoided as much as humanly possible. Given his life’s work of operating just at the line of legality concerning magical statutes pertaining to his beasts and often (happily) dipping under that line, Newt was understandably twitchy around ultimate authority.

         Right now, he deliberately placed an arm around his mother and smiled that sweet smile that never failed to make Percival’s stomach drop. Touch was important. In many ways, his partner was just as shy and damaged as their little one. He’d never been good with social cues and most times he shied away from casual touches, for reasons Percy was only starting to understand. That privilege was reserved only for those he really cared about, he shied away from even the basic handshakes. Sometimes it was easy for Percival to forget that, as in their intimate lives behind closed doors, they were very liberal with touching. Random kisses, strokes, and hugs were the norm between them, almost as if it was impossible for them to keep their hands off each other.

        Thea looked up at him, her eyes questioning and he smiled. _“This is your grandmum, Thea. She won’t hurt you, darling.”_

        Amelia looked as if her heart were cracking, her lower lip trembling before she firmed it. _“It’s okay to be frightened, poppet,”_ she said, and Percival saw Thea turn to look at the woman that looked so much like her Papa. Somehow it clicked, and she reached out the hand not twisted in a death-grip on her daddy’s shirt collar. As long as he had her, everything was safe. Nothing could hurt her, no one could take her away, and no one would shout or raise their hands.

         When their hands touched, Newt’s mother’s smile was radiant. _“You’re a right love, aren’t you? We’re going to have hours of fun, just you wait and see. Oh, Newt, darling, she’s going to take to Hannah and Cleo so well! It’s so sad that Artemis couldn’t have met her, you know how she loved you boys when you were small.”_

        Newt looked as if a half-ton weight had been lifted from his shoulders, even as Percival had the sinking feeling that he was going to be arguing a lost cause on trying to keep his little girl from being trampled by hippogriffs and various other ‘harmless’ creatures.

*~*~*

         The second indication that his future mother-in-law was a terrifying entity worth worshipping came nearly a week later. She, Newt, and Thea were on their own for the afternoon while Percival, Theseus, and Newt’s father, Alexander, a retired auror, were in a secret conference at MACUSA, discussing the finer points of home defense and planning how to draw out the mole. The amount of operatives present were very select, only those that Percival and Seraphina knew were trustworthy and had willingly submitted to veritaserum and a wizard’s oath before going forward. Theseus had gathered a few of his colleagues from London to come out for an extended ‘holiday’, calling in favors from friends that were fond of his family, there were three of them running security detail at home while everyone else was out. In the end, Percival was satisfied with the support rallying around them.

          When the firecall came in near the end of the conference, everyone bolted into action. The head bobbing in the massive stone fireplace in Seraphina’s office was wild-eyed and a bit panicked, blood pouring from a cut near his scalp. He looked dazed and shouted for Theseus before blinking and realizing that he’d managed a direct line and was speaking to his colleague.

           _"_ _Bloody fuck, Scamander, get your arse out here, now! Junior’s down, your mum is a fucking nutter, and the bloody bastards are pouring in like water! Before they hexed the shite out of him, your lunatic brother sent a muggle into that Merlin cursed case of his and now we have an enraged erumpet blowing things up, fwoopers divebombing both sides out of nowhere, and a goddamned nundu standing over him and the kid. We can’t even get close to see if he’s still fucking kicking. Get. Out. Here. Now!”_

          Percival felt his heart go somewhere near his feet as everyone burst into action, running for the apparation room as a group. He was going to personally escort the informant into the execution chamber when they figured out who the fuck they were. If a bloodthirsty Madam President didn’t make it to them first.

          When they got to his home, everything seemed to be falling to a close amid the obvious signs of an epic battle. His extensive back garden looked as if it had been turned into a war zone, all the careful landscaping uprooted, trees splintered and rocks tossed every which way. The fountain near the back was in pieces, the stone crumbled like it was clay. Percival rushed through wildly, wishing desperately that he could actually hear the background noise, just to see if he could pinpoint his family by sound. Instead, he focused on that bright pull of energy that he associated with Newt and followed it, trusting his colleagues to have his back against any incoming attack.

          He found them near the back fence line of the property, Thea huddled in Dougal’s arms as the demiguise stood over a still, unmoving Newt, behind a prowling and snarling nundu. There were black robed figures sprawled over the grounds, only a few of them still moving. He couldn’t see Amelia, Jacob, or Queenie anywhere, but he acknowledged Theseus’s signal that he and his father would rally everyone else before leaving Tina and Percival to take care of Newt and the beasts.

          Hand raised, Percival focused on the nundu, crooning her name in what he hoped was the right tone as he approached. He desperately hoped that his scent was familiar enough for the old girl to let him get near Newt. Her ears flattened and she hissed at him, baring teeth that could easily snap his arm if she took a mind to it. He desperately tried to think of all the things he’d learned from his partner about nundu behavior and what to do if confronted with one. His mind went completely blank. He clutched his wand in sweaty fingers, eyes darting to Thea, who was red faced and obviously upset, but not visibly injured as she clung to Dougal for dear life. He didn’t want to have to hex the beast in any way, knowing that she was just doing what she felt was right. Her mum was in danger and it was only natural to keep any threat at bay.

         He wanted to rage at the fact that he couldn’t hear the vocalizations that were essential to truly understanding where the giant magical feline stood. Her energy was entirely different from that of humans and Percival wanted to kick himself for not insisting on taking time to work with her and the others. He vowed that once this clusterfuck was over, he would be damn sure to make time. Newt’s creatures were so much a part of his life, and they always would be. If it happened now, it could happen again and he would never forgive himself if he had to actually hurt one of them because he was too busy to learn their fucking body language and energy signatures as well as he did his fellow humans. Tina, even though she’d known Newt longer than Percival, knew even less about his creatures, so she was nearly as useless.

          Just as he was raising his wand, having exhausted all other possible routes, Percival saw the nundu turn her head toward where Newt was laid out behind her, ears perking once again before loping over to nudge at him gently. He felt sick with relief when a shaky hand patted at her muzzle and she planked down on her haunches, relaxing enough to eye him with a more normal slitted stare, her thick, ropey tail thumping at the earth.

         Still hesitant, Percival ignored the impulse to just rush in and snatch his family away and back into the house proper. She may be calm now, but that could change in a heartbeat if she felt the danger was at hand. Tina touched his elbow and he jerked, tearing his eyes away from his fiancé and daughter. _“She’ll stand by. Newt’s saying it’s okay to approach, but just you. Aggie might try to take my face off if I come near. You’re recognized as tribe. Go slow. I’ll get Dougal to bring me Thea. Once we get them into the house, we can get the others back into the case.”_

          Percival made himself move slowly, his heart pounding hard as he approached his prone fiancé. Newt wasn’t moving much, sprawled face down in the dirt, his coat missing and his waistcoat torn, showing the cream shirt underneath. His head was cradled in the crook of his left arm, his right resting on the ground, fingers curled loosely around his wand. There was no visible blood, but that didn’t matter when you were dealing with wizards. The most vicious curses didn’t leave a mark on you. He greeted Aggie the way he remembered Newt instructing him, murmuring words of comfort and assurance as he waited for her to bump his hand with her muzzle. He couldn’t help but be thankful for the bastards that had surgically removed the glands that made her noxious breath deadly. He could feel the force of her vocalization, but had to hope he was right in that it wasn’t a warning growl. When she bumped his shoulder, nudging him toward Newt and nearly knocking him over with the force of it, he realized she _wanted_ him to gather him up.

          _“Newt, Mercy Lewis, are you all right?”_ The question came out automatically, despite the fact that there was no way for Percival to know if he responded, and it was quite fucking obvious that he was far from all right. Then he had his hands on his lanky partner and everything snapped back into place. Newt was shaking, fine tremors running through his body as he weakly gripped Percival’s arms when he was pulled upright. His head lolled on his shoulders, face paper-white under smudges of dirt and what looked like ash. His pupils were blown wide, lids at half-mast.

          Percival felt someone fall to their knees next to him and he nearly jammed his wand into Theseus’s neck before he realized who it was. _“Fucking balls! We have to get him to hospital, Perce. Mum said he took a hellacious turn with a cruciatus and a couple other hexes that she couldn’t hear over the commotion. He was under for too long. Fuck! Come on, help me get him up. We’ve got to go, now. Merlin knows what they did and how that combination is still working.”_

_"Thea-,”_ Percival started to ask, already standing and helping Theseus pull Newt up between them. When they got him upright, he leaned heavily into Percival’s side, knees buckling the moment there was any weight on his legs.

            _"Tina and Mum have her. They’ll be along right behind us. Mum’s gonna need to be seen too, the bastards caught her with a few nasties. But not as bad as what she lobbed back at them, that’s for sure. Now, come on.”_

          Concentrating on the all too familiar halls of their local wizarding hospital, Percival apparated them out.

*~*~*

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took so long to get back to this!! There's gonna be one more chapter after this, because I'm weak and I can't leave it like it is. So... a bit more angst, a lot more fluff, and a bit more sexing toward the end. I love you guys so very, very much, and thank you for reading! Cheers!

*~*~*

            Focusing all of his attention on Newt, Percival missed most of the dramatic events that took place outside the frantic med-room that he and Theseus had been ushered into the moment they arrived. Once they’d been pushed aside so the healers could swarm the rapidly fading Newt, Theseus had nearly collapsed back against the wall, his face pale and eyes dark with a mix of cold fury and intense fear.

            _“Merlin, Percy. I don’t know if I can do this again. Fuck, if he doesn’t… I can’t… I just can’t…”_ There was movement from the bedside, one of the more familiar healers coming towards them with a grim look on her face _._

            _“Mr. Scamander, Director Graves, while we appreciate your upset, we must keep our interactions positive. He can still hear you and if he thinks you’ve given up on him, it might not end well. He’s in a precarious spot. We’re doing what we can. The next few hours will be critical. It may be beneficial for you both to step outside. From the looks of it, there are other things to keep you occupied, yes?”_

            Theseus immediately opened his mouth to snarl at the young woman, who looked to be a good ten years younger than the two of them. She merely raised an eyebrow and firmed her mouth, ready to face the infamous Scamander temper. Since moving to New York, the ginger auror had his share of run ins with the med-unit. Not all of it had been favorable, and the healer teams had learned the best way to deal with him was to be just as stubborn and twice as mean.

            When his mouth shut again and he straightened from the wall, he narrowed his eyes at her before storming out of the room, knowing that being an ass wasn’t going to help his brother. He would never admit it, but she was right. There were other things he needed to attend to. One being his mother.

            Once the elder Scamander was gone, the mediwitch softened and touched Percival’s elbow gently. She smiled and said, _“Newt’s in good hands, Mr. Graves. We’ll have him stable in a jiffy. I know you want to stay, but we really need to work without distractions. I’ll send someone the moment he’s clear, all right?”_

            One last agonized look at the prone form on the bed, and Percival nodded. He needed to go to Thea, she would be upset and needing him, and he needed to hold her himself to make sure she was all right. Then there was the entire mess to be sorted with the attack itself and speaking with Seraphina and making sure the fallout wasn’t too wide. He swallowed hard and forced himself to go, feeling as if he was walking away from a deathbed. It left a sour taste in his mouth and he actually turned back around once he was past the threshold, but found the door had been shut and locked. He knew he could get back in if he really needed to, there wasn’t much to the locking spells on the med-wing’s doors. But the point had been made. He wasn’t going to be doing any good hovering here. Not when his daughter needed him.

*~*~*

            Thea was in her uncle’s arms when he came into the waiting room, her face tear-stained but clean of the smudged dirt and ash from earlier. Someone had cleaned her up and repaired the rips in her clothing, easing one of the concerns he had about her possibly being hurt. The moment she sensed him come in the room, she was pushing away from Theseus and reaching for him. He gathered her up tightly, allowing himself the luxury of burrowing into her warmth. When he turned his gaze to his future brother-in-law, he saw the smallest of smiles touching his mouth.

            _“She didn’t want anyone else,”_ Theseus explained, gesturing at the near to full waiting room. Tina and Queenie were huddled by the windows charmed with an ocean view, Jacob hovering with his arm around his new wife’s waist. They all looked upset, Tina still bearing smudges of soot on her face and a ripped blouse. He noted that Newt’s father was absent, though he wasn’t surprised. _“Da’s with Mum. He’s utterly furious, but he’s better at controlling his temper. It’s more to keep her calm than out of any sort of medical need.”_

            Percival nodded, rubbing his cheek against the top of Thea’s head. _“Casualty count?”_

There was a grim satisfaction in Theseus’s eyes as he reported, _“Three of ours being treated for curses, seven of theirs needing extensive healing, two not expected to make it, and one dead. They never should have hexed Newt where Mum could see. She took out one on her own before my men could even get there from across the property, and two more after they took out Newt. My brother got two of them out of the way right off the mark.”_

 _“Your mother is fine, then?”_ Percival sighed, relieved when Theseus nodded.

            _“Irate enough that they took her wand for safe keeping and had to sedate her to even begin to look at spell damage. I swear, for a woman that small, she packs a serious punch.”_ There was definite pride in her son’s face as he spoke of the tiny spitfire of a woman. Percival couldn’t help but grin back. He knew exactly where Theseus got his infamous temper from now, and where Newt got his insanely potent protective streak from. Not many people knew that about their sweetheart of a colleague, but if you crossed someone he cared about, it didn’t take long to figure it out.

            Percy’s eyes were drawn to Queenie when she stood up resolutely, clapped her hands, and declared that it was time to go find sustenance. Honey colored eyes narrowed at him when he tried to shoo them out without him, wanting to stay in case there was word on how Newt was doing. When her lips pursed in an unhappy line, he sighed and closed his eyes briefly. Damn, that woman had to be the only person alive outside of Newt that could make him stand down.

            When Amelia Scamander joined them in the waiting room an hour later, her coloring resembling that of the stark white walls and green eyes spitting hellfire, he reconsidered that statement. He tried to give her his seat and her smile was brittle as she shook her head. _“No, darling, I can’t sit at a time like this. The healers tried to keep be bed bound, but when I threatened to light their arses on fire and proved I could do it, wand or no, they let me come down here.”_

 _“And they did so on the condition that you sit the moment you get here.”_ Alexander fixed his wife with a steady stare, taking her firmly by the waist and depositing her in the chair that Percival had vacated. _“Don’t you look at me like that, Amelia Jane. I’ll take you right back to the mediwitches, just you watch.”_

            Not looking at all happy with him, Amelia crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, slumping back against the back of the chair. Percival had to bury his face in a sleeping Thea’s hair to hide the smile. That’s where the pissy little pout came from. Newt didn’t pull it out very often, but when he did it was rather spectacular. It was much less endearing when Theseus did it, but to someone who hadn’t dealt with his shenanigans for years, it was just as effective.

            It was another half hour that felt like more like a year before the head healer came in to speak with them, focusing on Percival as person of importance. _“We managed to unravel the hexes placed on Mr. Scamander. He’s stable now, Director Graves, but we’ll need to keep him at least a couple more days for monitoring.”_ Percival missed the particulars of the curses his partner had been hit with, his eyes closing in relief and his knees going perilously weak. Dimly, he felt hands guiding him to a chair and he sat down hard.

            When he reopened his eyes, the healer was smiling faintly at him and waited until he made eye-contact before saying, _“You can go in and see him now, if you’d like. He’s not going to be awake, but having a familiar presence around him will do wonders towards keeping him grounded. It should bring him around sooner.”_

 _“Yes,”_ Percival couldn’t hear the way his voice broke, but he could feel how raw his throat was as he swallowed hard. He looked to Jacob, who automatically reached for Thea, the men making the exchange so gently that the exhausted tot didn’t so much as twitch. The nomaj baker was right about tied with Theseus as her third favorite person. When it was a particularly bad day and neither of her fathers were available, Theseus was her go-to, mainly due to his resemblance to her Papa. When things were happy and it was playtime, Jacob won hands down. Queenie and Tina were still working on becoming friends and getting closer all the time, but their very gender was against them in this one.

            It saddened them all that the little girl had been so traumatized that it had taken this long for her to see that not all women were bad. It was usually the other way around, and the thought that it the ones chosen as her caretakers had been brought in specifically because they were female was abhorrent to all involved. Tina was especially gleeful in interrogating those brought in as they slowly infiltrated the dark mage anarchist group. Percival had the pleasure of witnessing her in action, having been called in to help with a couple of the trickier ones. Vicious was a mild word for what she put them through, and his esteem for his colleague and friend had been more than validated.

            The moment Percival stepped into Newt’s room, everything else faded away. He approached the bed, feeling sick at the utterly motionless figure. Newt was never this still; he was always moving, that kinetic energy always jumping just under his skin, even when he was sleeping. There were nights when the only way Percival could get any sleep was to make sure his lover was completely and utterly wrecked, so exhausted that he could barely form the wherewithal to move his tongue for speech. Those nights weren’t as common as one would think, but they were certainly memorable. Percy loved every minute of it.

            He sat down on a conveniently placed chair and took Newt’s hand. It was icy cold to the touch and he couldn’t stop the burning behind his eyelids. He pulled their entwined fingers up to his cheek and rested them there, muttering a warming charm with barely a thought. He couldn’t handle feeling the cold where Newt usually ran hot. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up with red-rimmed eyes to see Amelia standing right behind him. Her smile trembled as she stoked his hair, offering comfort as only a mother could.

            _“He’ll be all right, Percival,”_ she said and wiped at a tear that was slowly making its way down his cheek. _“My boy’s tamed dragons, you know. He’s gone into battle riding the blasted beasts and come out of it fine. He can take a few hits from mediocre wizards.”_ Her face crumbled and Percival went with instinct and drew her to him with one arm, moving to stand so he could hold her and still keep his grip on Newt.

            Before he’d fallen in love with the irrepressible, irresponsible, annoyingly beautiful, endearing, and unendingly kind British magizoologist, Percival never in a million years would have ever pictured himself completely losing his composure and sobbing as if his heart were being ripped out. He clung to his slip of a mother-in-law, and cried with her, unknowingly creating a bond that would be utterly unbreakable.

*~*~*

            It took nearly four days for Newt to stir. It took five days and the combined efforts of Queenie, Amelia, Jacob, and Newt himself to get Percival to leave his side for longer than a half hour at a time. Once Newt was ready to go home, Percival had tag-teamed with his chosen team of aurors, Theseus, and his future father-in-law on ‘interviewing’ the surviving wizards that had the misfortune to not be lying in a high security med-unit. It took less than two days for them to crack and they had the name of the mole, and the names of the ones paying them.

            The raid happened very soon after, Percival and his team taking point. Not even Seraphina intervened, despite her misgivings. When it was all said and done, he actually left it to Tina and Theseus to wrap up the final paperwork and the subsequent trips into the execution chamber. He went home to his family.

            Thea was happily playing with Dougal in the converted playroom, an occamy chick shrunk down and wrapped like a brilliant ribbon around the crown of her head. Newt was ensconced on the window seat with Horace nestled between the back of his neck and the pillows piled behind him his eyes were closed and it seemed as if he were sleeping. The healers had said it would be a while until he was back to hundred percent, but they hadn’t taken into consideration Percival’s own brand of healing magic. They hadn’t had any time to themselves since the attack, but Percival was about to change that.

          Amelia was knitting in the armchair to one side, keeping one eye on her granddaughter, and the other on her youngest son. When she looked up at him, she must have seen something in his expression because her smile turned knowing as she signed, _“I’ll take our Thea downstairs for biscuits if you’d like to get Newt off to bed. He’s been arguing with me about staying put, but the moment that mouth of his closes for more than a minute, he’s out like a light.”_ She turned to Thea and said something that Percival missed, but he didn’t miss the way his daughter lit up when she finally noticed him. It was a good sign that she was relaxing and trusting enough to fall so deep into her play that she didn’t take notice when someone entered or left a room. Mostly, he figured as she ran to him with her arms raised so he could swing her up for a quick cuddle, it was the amount of security literally sparking from their home.

         The converted playroom/study was the most secure spot in the house, with her grandmum, Papa (even as drained as he was, Newt wasn’t someone to discount as a powerhouse), and the various creatures in attendance. The occamy chick, though very young, was a big enough threat if someone were to try and bother her favored human. Percival had a feeling that the hatchling wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Idly he wondered if he could finagle the headmaster at Ilvermorny into letting her bring it with her as a familiar. As popular as Newt’s book had gotten, he wasn’t sure if it would be his name that made it happen, or Newt’s.

         He kissed Thea’s cheek with a flourish and watched her eyes sparkle as she told him about her day with grandmum. When she got to asking about her Papa and why he wasn’t fixed yet, Percival saw his chance. _“Well, Thea-bug, why don’t you go with your grandmum down to the kitchens and I’ll see about fixing him up for us? I heard something about biscuits.”_

 _“I can help,”_ Thea said, her expression turning shy as she looked over Percival’s shoulder at Amelia, toying with the buttons on his shirt. His heart swelled and he kissed her forehead with a half-smile. Already he couldn’t imagine their life without her.

_“But if you help grandmum in the kitchens, Papa can have some treats when he’s feeling better. Uncle Jacob should be here soon too. Maybe he can show you how to make a pastry niffler. What about that?”_

         Thea perked up just a little when she heard Jacob’s name, finally allowing him to set her down so she could take Amelia’s hand. _“Take your time, Percival.”_ He turned away, hopefully in time for Amelia not to see the way his face burned at the wink she sent him. He didn’t even want to know how she knew what he’d been thinking when he’d come in.

         He shook it off as he approached his sleeping fiancé, easing down to perch on the edge of the window seat. Newt was curled up with his knees nearly to his chest, resting his entire body against the window frame. Auburn hair fell into his eyes, the curls getting long enough to need a haircut soon. As he watched the rise and fall of his shoulders as he slept, Percival felt the horrible burn of tears again. Mercy Lewis, he didn’t know how many more times he could go through this. They’d skated through again, by the skin of their teeth. Newt was there, he was breathing. That’s what counted, right? But what about next time?

         He blinked when a warm hand stroked his hair out of his eyes, realizing that he’d been sitting and staring long enough to bring his lover out of his doze. _“Hey, you,”_ he murmured, capturing Newt’s hand to bring it to his lips. Newt’s smile was sleepy and sweet, happy to see him.

_“Hey, yourself. Everything going all right at MACUSA? Everyone come home safe? Tina, Theseus?”_

_“They’re all good, Newt. They’re tying up all the last loose ends. Grable was escorted into the execution chamber this morning. Seraphina and I attended it personally.”_

         Newt’s eyes clouded, a frown tugging at those expressive lips. There wasn’t an argument or a concern for the ethics of their version of the death penalty. Not in this case, anyway. _“I should feel bad about wishing such a fate on anyone, but I can’t quite bring myself to. Not right now.”_ He yawned, pressing the back of his free hand against his mouth. _“I can’t wait until this lethargy is past. It’s incredibly bothersome.”_

         Percival cupped his jaw then, stopping the trickle of words before they got started by pressing their lips together in a gentle line. He’d been slowly building that healing spark, and a hint of it transferred, making Newt shiver pleasantly. _“How about I take care of that, hmn?”_

         Newt breathed against his lips, a tiny gasp that could be anything, but Percy took it as an affirmative. He didn’t lose any more time, sending an almost negligent push of magic to apparate them directly to their bed, and another to make sure the locks were in place. He didn’t worry about the muffling charms, having installed those permanently into the woodwork after they’d forgotten one too many times and Theseus had threatened to hex Percival’s balls off. He’d come back with a retort on his fellow auror finding his own goddamn home, but conceded the issue when his in-laws had come into town.

        Once he had Newt sprawled under him on the soft mattress, Percival set about removing layers. He was grumbling in amusement as he went, completely smitten with the fact that his partner was wearing two sweaters and a vest over one of Percival’s shirts. _“I love you, so much,”_ he breathed into the curve of a finally bare shoulder, sucking a bruise into the skin then laving it with his tongue. The vibration of Newt’s moan shot straight to his core, and he laughed when his own clothes were suddenly gone. It had been too long since they’d touched like this, and it seemed as if Newt was just as impatient, if not more than he was.

 _“No teasing, Percy. Please, not this time. I need you. Merlin’s beard, I need you to touch me.”_ Newt gripped his shoulders, nails biting in as Percival slowly pushed the healing magic, using his entire body this time instead of just his hands. It washed over them both in a near visible wave, leaving both men breathless and wanting.

         When he slipped his fingers into the hot, tight space between Newt’s legs, he murmured an unnecessary lubricant charm, realizing that his partner had already beat him to it. There was almost too much now, but it was worth it to feel that gorgeous stretch, the excess tasting sweet on his tongue as he licked around the sensitive skin twitching around his fingers. When he felt Newt strain against the hand holding his hips to the bed, and a desperate grip on his hair, he pulled back and allowed himself to be pulled up and into a kiss that was more teeth than anything else.

 _“Please, don’t make me beg, darling,”_ Newt babbled, gripping Percival’s cock and giving it a firm, if unsteady stroke. _“I need you to fuck me. I’ll do whatever you want on our second go round, just stop dallying and fuck me.”_ Well, that had promise. Percival’s smirk disappeared when Newt did something with his hips and he shifted down so that it was easy enough to slip in. From there, it was a frantic pace, their combined magic surging and coiling through them both, through every ounce of their bodies and minds.

         Desperation tugged at Percival, urging him to close his arms around his lanky mate, to pull him up so that they were heart to heart. One arm was up and around Newt’s back, fingers biting into his shoulder, and his other hand was cupped under one cheek of his backside, holding so tight that there was sure to be bruises. Newt wrapped his impossibly long legs around Percival’s waist, ankles hooking at the base of his spine as he did his best to meet the punishing thrusts.

          Percival buried his face in the fragrant stretch of skin right behind Newt’s ear and shuddered as he came apart completely. He whimpered when he felt Newt clamp down around him, the telltale feeling of hot sticky release coating their stomachs. As their movements slowed and came to a gradual stop, Percival felt his emotions overwhelm him and he hid his face in the comfort of Newt’s hair.

           He could feel the comforting murmur against the side of his head, long fingers stroking through his hair and down his shoulders. He was allowed this weakness. Here, amidst damp sheets and overheated flesh, with whispered assurances that he couldn’t hear, he could allow himself the privilege of a total meltdown.

 

*~*~*


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! I finally got off my butt and got the final chapter of this installment done! :D No worries on this being the end of the series, though. I've got a few more up my sleeve, I promise. Thank you all for the support and awesome comments you guys dropped here. I'm not good at responding to them, but I get all mushy and squirrel-excited when I see them. Every last one of your comments and kudos are appreciated. <3

*~*~*

          In the end, the decision to leave on an indefinite traveling sabbatical with his soon to be husband and daughter was an easy one to make. What wasn’t easy, was breaking the news to his family, his parents specifically. His aurors and the rest of MACUSA were sad to see him go, of course, but they were happy for him and there was more than one clap on the back with a ‘Good for you, sir. This is just the thing for ya.’ There were talks of a going away party, and he’d told them to just save it for the wedding. Theseus and Tina were responsible for throwing the joint stag party and it could just do double duty. That had gathered enough smirks and bright eyes that Percival didn’t know whether to look forward to it, or dread it.

          Even Seraphina took his resignation in stride, her understanding nod worth more to him than any sort of platitude or plea for him to stay.

           _“Honestly, Percy, I’d half expected you to run off with our Mr. Scamander long before now.”_ She sobered and looked almost sad, looking into the glass of wine she’d poured for them when it was clear that the private appointment he’d made with her was going in a more personal direction. _“Thank you for giving us as much time as you have. After what happened with Grindlewald, we… I certainly didn’t deserve to have you stay on. I still feel a measure of guilt over not realizing the imposter sooner. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Scamander, who knows where we would have ended up.”_

Percival had smiled and took her hand in a rare gesture that he hadn’t done since their school years. _“Sera, I’m not going to go into all the old bologna we’ve been over a million times about how much of a sly bastard Grindlewald is, and how he worked the system like a master. You know I don’t blame you, or anyone else. The truth is, if this horrible situation hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have Newt, or Thea. Even if I had a chance to go back and change it, to stop it from happening, I wouldn’t.”_

_"You really love him.”_ Seraphina’s smile was soft. _“I’m glad you have him, Percival. And as awful as it will be to fill your shoes when you’re gone, I’m glad that you’re getting out of here while you’re still young enough to enjoy yourself. Take advantage of the time you have, watch that girl grow up. And take the time to make more babies as you go.”_

Percival had choked on the sip of wine he’d just taken, turning red-faced at the knowing smirk she sent him over the rim of her own glass. That was something he hadn’t even discussed with _Newt_ , let alone anyone else. It certainly wasn’t time for that kind of talk, with the wedding and Thea, and… And he hadn’t been able to block out the thought of his slender fiancé swollen and tender with his child. It was possible. More than possible. In fact, the ability for male wizards to carry a child with the right potions and ceremonies was the entire reason same sex marriages were seen as just as valid as heterosexual ones in the wizarding world, regardless of what the no-maj society said.

          Theseus, the secret softie, was overwhelmed when Percival told him to hold off on his house hunt. Not that the redheaded menace had truly been searching that hard. He openly enjoyed living in a large household again, spending as much time with his little brother and niece as he could while alternately irritating the hell out of Percival and rebuilding that comradery they’d shared during the war.

         " _We’ve discussed it, and we don’t want to shut the house up for such long periods of time,”_ Percival explained as he, Newt, and Theseus walked through the restored back gardens. When they came to the stone bench in front of the fountain, Newt expanded the space with a wave of his wand and took a seat, pulling Percival down with him, nestling into his side. He seemed to know that the soon-to-be retired auror needed the extra contact. Theseus elected to stand, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at his little brother and his best friend.

           _“We want to keep a home base to come back to,”_ Newt signed, so Percival didn’t have to pull away to watch his lips. _“We’ll certainly keep a line of communication on our travels, just as I’ve always done. You’ll have a copy of the itinerary and you’ll always be on the list of emergency contacts.”_

          Theseus rubbed at his face suddenly, pressing fingers into his eyelids briefly, his shoulders shuddering once as he said something that Percival missed. He was a bit alarmed as Newt broke away and approached his brother, their interaction a bit lost. Then he smiled a bit, relaxing when Newt pulled the taller Scamander into a warm, laughing embrace.

          The elder Scamanders were happy for them, Alexander confiding in Percival that retiring had been one of the best decisions he’d made. He applauded the younger man for stepping down while he was still young. There had also been a not-so-subtle hint that there was still time for more grandchildren. Percival was certain that he’d never blushed so hard or been so utterly flummoxed as he had been staring at his father-in-law’s expectant smirk. When he’d blurted, _“Shouldn’t I be hearing that from Mum instead of you?”_ Alexander had thrown back his head and howled with laugher, looking almost too much like Theseus in that moment.

          Amelia had clapped her hands together in glee and pulled him in for a fierce hug, kissing the side of his head almost aggressively. _“This will make_ both _of my darlings so very, very happy! I know how much Newt hates staying in one place for too long, and I know how much you hate it when he’s away. You’ll be so very, very glad you took the time to see the world, Percival. There are so many fascinating things to experience. And our Thea will be so well rounded in her upbringing.”_

          To be completely honest, Percival felt an overwhelming surge of grateful affection for her when she cupped his cheeks and stared into his eyes, stating, _“I am so very proud of you, Percival Graves. You are a wonderful, intelligent, crafty man with a heart as fierce and pure as any hippogriff. I am so happy to have you as a son.”_

          Now, if his own mother were to take that stance. Percival stood stiffly in his parents’ parlor, Newt hovering awkwardly beside him as Thea sat wide-eyed on the uncomfortable formal sofa, quietly fidgeting with the hem of her dress. Francis Graves was a painfully thin woman in her late fifties, clad in severe black and white clothing that had gone out of style a good decade before. Her stone gray hair was scraped back into a mercilessly tight bun, completely unadorned but for long hairpins holding it to her scalp. There was a hint of a beauty still gracing her prematurely aged face, but he was hard-pressed to see it when her face was screwed up like she was smelling something rotten, her dark eyes roaming over his poor fiancé, who was getting more uncomfortable by the minute.

          Percival’s father was reclining in the armchair by the fire, almost a little too relaxed next to his mother’s rigid posture, but Percy could lay money down that the man was already a fair way into the bottle of expensive scotch that he hadn’t even bothered to put the lid back on. After the brilliant warmth of the Scamanders, he was almost ashamed to expose Newt and Thea to this cold and unforgiving atmosphere. Well, there wasn’t much of an almost. He _was_ ashamed. He hadn’t realized how much of a difference there was until he was faced with it. As an only child, Percival had always taken the brunt of his mother’s disapproval and his father’s indifference.

          Poor little rich boy. Son of a bitch, he’d always hated that turn of phrase when he heard it. Nothing he had ever done was good enough for his mother, and after a while he’d stopped trying for her sake and just succeeded for his own benefit because that’s all he’d been raised to do. He’d avoided his father when they were both home at the same time, only enduring a handful of excruciatingly embarrassing father-son outings as a teenager that had been required for their social standing. It had always ended poorly with him needing to drag a belligerent, wasted John Graves out of the bar area of wherever the event had been staged, making sure not to make eye contact with any of their peers who didn’t even try to keep their distain out of their expressions. The Graves family was respected because they held the family seat and because their money was old and plentiful. Nothing more, nothing less.

          They hadn’t even come to him in the med unit while he was recovering from his captivity at Gridlewald’s hands. The last time he could remember Francis coming to him with any sort of motherly affection or love had been when he’d had the bout with dragon pox. Now, looking into her unforgiving expression, he wondered if it had actually been a figment of his imagination, if her tears on his behalf had been a front to keep up appearances. The uncharitable thought slid into place and stuck. Maybe she had just been upset that if she lost the heir, she’d actually have to put up with sexual advances to try to produce another one. He quickly shook it off and tried to tell himself that he was being unfair. Time and marriage to a drunkard had changed his mother. It was much easier to think of it that way.

            _"I do not believe I am understanding what you are trying to say, Percival.”_ He could tell that his mother was over enunciating her words, speaking much slower than necessary, and he reached out to squeeze Newt’s hand as his partner stiffened beside him. No doubt her tone was condescending as well, which Percival had come to realize bothered Newt more than it did him. In the very few times it had happened, the younger, rather unassuming man had retaliated with a razor sharp and quick response that still had people eyeing him warily.

           _“You heard me perfectly, mother,”_ Percival said mildly, _“I’m retiring after my wedding. Madam Picquery has already accepted my resignation letter and given her blessings. My last day as a full-time MACUSA employee is April thirtieth, two days before I’m to take Newt as my husband and formally blood adopt Thea as our daughter. Then I’ll be going on an extended traveling sabbatical, returning only on a consultant status.”_

           His mother’s lips flattened in a sour expression that he knew all too well. _“You’re making a mistake, Percival.”_

_“I’m sorry you feel that way, mother. It doesn’t change anything.”_

           His father mumbled something into his glass, causing Newt to jerk a little beside him. Percival glanced over and noted the pale fury that had tightened the redhead’s normally pleasant expression, making his freckles even more pronounced. There were two hot spots of color on his cheeks and his amber-green eyes were snapping with anger. Percival squeezed his hand and tugged him a little closer, wrapping a, hopefully, calming arm around his waist. Whatever it was his father said, it wasn’t worth Newt losing his temper over. Those shiny eyes latched onto Percival’s and after a moment of intense staring, he blinked and looked away, sighing.

           When Percival turned to look at his parents, he realized that this visit had been pointless. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d wanted to inform them in person, except that maybe being faced with their only son finally taking that step into marriage and children might have been enough to get their grudging approval. But he was marrying the wrong kind of spouse, and the child wasn’t of the Graves bloodline.

           He watched his mother’s lips, reading the vitriol dropping from her like poison, and felt a shiver of his own anger start to build. _“… filthy orphan. You need to drop this idea, Percival, and drop it right now. You are ruining your life for a British peasant that has no social skills and very little to offer you. Maryanne Hillsmith has been asking about you for her daughter Nancy, and she would make a much better choice.”_

_“Stop,”_ Percival said sharply, cutting his mother off for the first time in his life. Thea had gotten off the sofa during the tirade and Newt was now holding her tight, stroking the back of her head soothingly, near vibrating with anger and hurt. _“I have what and who I want. I’m sorry you can’t appreciate that. Your invitation to our wedding is still valid, and your seats will still be held. However, I suggest you keep the sour hate under wraps while you’re in the midst of the people who love and care for us. They’re not obligated to be kind, or forgiving. Good day, mother. Father. We’ll see ourselves out.”_

The one positive thing about being deaf was the inability to hear the shouted words hurled at his back on the way out.

*~*~*

            _"_ _What a horrible woman,”_ Newt spat the moment they were home and Thea was safely in his mother’s care downstairs in the garden. Amelia had taken one look at her son and sighed sharply, going directly to Percival to press a soothing kiss to his cheek and a gentle pat on his shoulder. She’d insisted on them going up for a ‘lie down’, for once not winking in that charmingly inappropriate way she was wont to do when sending them off to spend time alone together. Usually, she did it to lighten the mood, always seeming to know when one or the other just needed some time. Tonight she seemed to realize that the levity wouldn’t be appreciated.

           Percival kept his silence, merely going to his distraught mate and pulling him into his arms, holding him tightly when it seemed for a moment that Newt was going to pull away to pace and rant some more. Finally, after a moment, he settled in with a heavy sigh, sliding his own arms around Percival’s waist. They stood there like that for a long time, just breathing each other in. Percival closed his eyes and nestled his nose into the warm scent of Newt’s hair, letting it soothe him and ease away the lingering tension and underlying sting of his parents' continued rejection. Even at nearly thirty-eight years old, he still felt it.

           Finally pulling away, he looked into Newt’s face with a half-smile. _“Don’t worry about it so much, sweetheart. They’ve lost the ability to really hurt me a long time ago. I have no illusions about the type of people they are. I just wish I hadn’t brought you and Thea along. It would have been better if I’d just gone by myself and be done with it. I didn’t mean to upset you. I- the things my mother said... they're so far away from-_ _”_

            Newt stopped the flow of words by pressing his lips gently against his, angling his mouth just enough to get the full effect, causing Percival to instinctively open to him. There was no urgency in the brush of Newt’s tongue against his lower lip, the kiss a gentle, thorough affair that made Percival’s head a little light. When he pulled away again, there was a tinge of pink to those freckled cheeks and a sweet smile. _“That’s enough of that, love. We could go back and forth on that for a while if we let ourselves. They’re wretched people and you deserve much better than that. I won’t lie to you and say that I’m upset that they most likely won’t be at our wedding, though I almost wish they would come. Just for the satisfaction of showing them just how loved and respected you are just for being_ Percival _. I love you so much it hurts.”_

           Percival couldn’t find his voice to form a verbal response. Instead, he cupped Newt’s face in his hands and brought their mouths together again and inhaled the sweetness of the new life just waiting ahead of them.

 

*~*~*

 

 


End file.
